hlb
RIP
Just back from seven days at sea. Must admit I took a sneaky look at LJS’s post. On the marina computer. Having been fore warned by TOMO.
What about this for a record. 306 miles from home to Mountbatton in just 4 hours., and that’s including the ten mile an hour bits at each end. Mind you, it took 6 hours to get back.
Not having seen the boat since September, I was glad to see it in one piece, if a bit muckier than when last seen.
Anyway down to the plot.
Sunday morning, out with the power washer to knock the seagull shit off and just stopped for a mug of tea. When. There’s this human face at the window! After recovering from the shock and gingerly putting my head round the door, it turns out to be TOMO, about an hour soon. So lengthy discussions about past pre boaty lives, whilst Tuts made the bacon butties and more tea. Eventually LJS and crew appeared. I think they’d been hiding round the corner till the power washer disappeared, maybe it was the bacon butties that attracted them!
All looked a bit bemused when I said the boat was going out sideways, and didn’t need any of that pushing and fending and shoving stuff.
So off we go, out into the Sound.
Now I’ve got a sideline going as a mussel farmer, I’ve tried sheep but that didn’t work out. Only down side to this new venture, is the boat now goes about ten knots slower than last Easter when the enterprise began. Anyway we are harvesting then next month and repainting the bottom, ready to attract some more, so things should speed up for a while.
After a slow blast round the sound, just to give the mussels a breath of fresh water for a while, we heads up river for the Smugglers Inn. LJ’s older son takes command and expertly took the boat up river on the auto pilot. Then not sure of the depth of water at the Smugglers quay, I did a couple of sideways drifts past it to see what opinion the depth sounders had of it, before coming along side.
Belatedly I gets the video camera out to record these epic events, and all off to the pub for beer and Sunday roast, all accompanied with laughs and jokes, where everyone joined in. Then back to the boat.
Aha I thinks, at last I can have some pictures of the boat whilst its moving and taken from the quay. LJ gets a crash course in camera man-ship from every one even though he had said he’d used one before!
Now there was a sign up in this tranquil spot, saying 6 KNOT SPEED LIMIT. But being as all the boats, except one baby one, which had stayed to watch the fun. The rest had all gone away for the winter. And it was very quiet with nobody much about. And anyway this was a very special occasion and for a film!! So with a mighty roar (which sounded like a load of angry tractors) Off we goes doing a slalom round the hundreds of mooring buoys, before turning and heading flat out, straight for Long John with the camera, then banking over sharply to avoid scratching the quay. The baby yacht jumped around in excitement at all this fun, so we went round a couple more times just to keep it happy!!
Then a very sedate cruise back down the river so we wouldn’t look too guilty.
Back at the marina, every one stayed so late, that Tutts was ready to break out the spare blankets.
A Couple of days latter I rings LJ and TOMO to see what they thought about a trip to Fowey. LJ was all for it but TOMO backed out with excuses. I think it was the 20 odd knot slalom round the mooring buoys that put him off!
So LJ arrives bright and early and asks to use the toilet and asking if this was the famous toilet in the story. Now whether he wanted to go to the toilet for a call of nature or just to visit this sacred and famous place, maybe snatching a souvenir or two, I’ll leave to your judgement.
I must admit, I felt a bit like the captain of the Titanic. Planing along towards the ship aground with all that wood floating about like bloody big icebergs. And a bit concerned about the exclusion zone and criminal offence and things. But LJ said the exclusion zone was only about a hundred yards round so no bother. Then the big tug boat standing guard, sets off to chase us away so we scarper quick, but not before taking loads of pictures.
So down to Fowey and two or three hours in the King of Prussia. Now I’d contracted that ocean flue bug that’s been going about, and with the three pints of larger on top I was feeling quite queasy. So back to Plymouth in the dark and with all those wooden icebergs.
Back at the marina, LJ made comments about the upholstery. Like. Err is this original! So we had to go and order new bloody seats on Friday, just to keep him happy. Midnight Blue. John, if that’s all right!!
Next LJ made comments about cutlery and pans and plates. I think he was competing with matts silver ones, cos he said his were melamine, which sounded posh. And ours are only pot!!!
Haydn
What about this for a record. 306 miles from home to Mountbatton in just 4 hours., and that’s including the ten mile an hour bits at each end. Mind you, it took 6 hours to get back.
Not having seen the boat since September, I was glad to see it in one piece, if a bit muckier than when last seen.
Anyway down to the plot.
Sunday morning, out with the power washer to knock the seagull shit off and just stopped for a mug of tea. When. There’s this human face at the window! After recovering from the shock and gingerly putting my head round the door, it turns out to be TOMO, about an hour soon. So lengthy discussions about past pre boaty lives, whilst Tuts made the bacon butties and more tea. Eventually LJS and crew appeared. I think they’d been hiding round the corner till the power washer disappeared, maybe it was the bacon butties that attracted them!
All looked a bit bemused when I said the boat was going out sideways, and didn’t need any of that pushing and fending and shoving stuff.
So off we go, out into the Sound.
Now I’ve got a sideline going as a mussel farmer, I’ve tried sheep but that didn’t work out. Only down side to this new venture, is the boat now goes about ten knots slower than last Easter when the enterprise began. Anyway we are harvesting then next month and repainting the bottom, ready to attract some more, so things should speed up for a while.
After a slow blast round the sound, just to give the mussels a breath of fresh water for a while, we heads up river for the Smugglers Inn. LJ’s older son takes command and expertly took the boat up river on the auto pilot. Then not sure of the depth of water at the Smugglers quay, I did a couple of sideways drifts past it to see what opinion the depth sounders had of it, before coming along side.
Belatedly I gets the video camera out to record these epic events, and all off to the pub for beer and Sunday roast, all accompanied with laughs and jokes, where everyone joined in. Then back to the boat.
Aha I thinks, at last I can have some pictures of the boat whilst its moving and taken from the quay. LJ gets a crash course in camera man-ship from every one even though he had said he’d used one before!
Now there was a sign up in this tranquil spot, saying 6 KNOT SPEED LIMIT. But being as all the boats, except one baby one, which had stayed to watch the fun. The rest had all gone away for the winter. And it was very quiet with nobody much about. And anyway this was a very special occasion and for a film!! So with a mighty roar (which sounded like a load of angry tractors) Off we goes doing a slalom round the hundreds of mooring buoys, before turning and heading flat out, straight for Long John with the camera, then banking over sharply to avoid scratching the quay. The baby yacht jumped around in excitement at all this fun, so we went round a couple more times just to keep it happy!!
Then a very sedate cruise back down the river so we wouldn’t look too guilty.
Back at the marina, every one stayed so late, that Tutts was ready to break out the spare blankets.
A Couple of days latter I rings LJ and TOMO to see what they thought about a trip to Fowey. LJ was all for it but TOMO backed out with excuses. I think it was the 20 odd knot slalom round the mooring buoys that put him off!
So LJ arrives bright and early and asks to use the toilet and asking if this was the famous toilet in the story. Now whether he wanted to go to the toilet for a call of nature or just to visit this sacred and famous place, maybe snatching a souvenir or two, I’ll leave to your judgement.
I must admit, I felt a bit like the captain of the Titanic. Planing along towards the ship aground with all that wood floating about like bloody big icebergs. And a bit concerned about the exclusion zone and criminal offence and things. But LJ said the exclusion zone was only about a hundred yards round so no bother. Then the big tug boat standing guard, sets off to chase us away so we scarper quick, but not before taking loads of pictures.
So down to Fowey and two or three hours in the King of Prussia. Now I’d contracted that ocean flue bug that’s been going about, and with the three pints of larger on top I was feeling quite queasy. So back to Plymouth in the dark and with all those wooden icebergs.
Back at the marina, LJ made comments about the upholstery. Like. Err is this original! So we had to go and order new bloody seats on Friday, just to keep him happy. Midnight Blue. John, if that’s all right!!
Next LJ made comments about cutlery and pans and plates. I think he was competing with matts silver ones, cos he said his were melamine, which sounded posh. And ours are only pot!!!
Haydn
